


VLOG #690 MY BOYFRIEND AND I HAVE A DICK APPOINTMENT (EMOTIONAL)

by playedwright



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Banter, Blow Jobs, Emotional Sex, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Making Out, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, its fine, like... so much kissing, than there should be in smut, there r .. probably more jokes in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:35:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26276509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playedwright/pseuds/playedwright
Summary: “Eddie,” Richie whines. It comes out of him in a huff of air, drawn out. It makes Eddie’s insides feel like they’ve liquified. “Seriously. What are you thinking about?”“What I want to do when we get back to your apartment,” Eddie blurts out, unexpected but more honest than he’s ever been in his life. He resists the urge to smack his hand over his mouth. He doesn’t want to take it back. He’s surprised by it, sure, but he means it. Jesus fucking Christ. He means it.Richie turns to gape at him. Just for a moment, before he puts his gaze back on the road. “Oh,” he says.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 14
Kudos: 382





	VLOG #690 MY BOYFRIEND AND I HAVE A DICK APPOINTMENT (EMOTIONAL)

**Author's Note:**

> so somehow in the process of writing this i reached full maligned potential and scams is an enabler so when i said "what if i continue past the prompt u gave me" they said "ye do it" and then we went from a 3k fic to an 8k fic and i don't . really know how it happened still.
> 
> WELL. anyways. this is set in the smau universe [Cringe Fail](https://twitter.com/CringeFail_AU) where the losers are all various internet presences, mostly youtubers. if you're reading this you are in fact legally obligated to go read that as well. this happens between updates 358-359 :)
> 
> ANYWAY ENJOY XOXO

It’s been forty-six minutes since the first time Richie and Eddie kissed. Not that Eddie’s counting. Because it would be fucking crazy for him to literally count the time between their kisses, right? Except, he’s pretty sure this is different. Richie’s been his boyfriend for three months, and forty-six minutes ago they kissed for the first time.

Forty-seven. Eddie watches the clock change on Richie’s dashboard.

Richie’s got a hand on Eddie’s knee, instead of the steering wheel. It should freak Eddie out more. It doesn’t. If he had it his way, Richie’s hands would be all over him.

Jesus Christ, the thought of it makes Eddie’s chest burst into flames. It’s been bad enough having to limit himself to the bits of Richie that he gets over the phone and video calls. It’s a thousand times worse, now that he knows what Richie’s mouth feels like on his. Now that he knows how Richie kisses when he wants to prove that, even if it won’t go anywhere now, it will go somewhere later.

Eddie resists the urge to touch his lips, half-convinced that if he touches his fingertips to the part of his mouth that Richie had tugged between his teeth, it’ll prove to him that he didn’t make it up. He wants to, but he won’t. Not with Richie sitting next to him. Real and tangible and digging his fingers into Eddie’s leg.

He twines their hands together instead. He pretends it doesn’t make his heart skip a beat.

“You’re thinking so loud, you’re gonna make my car explode,” Richie says. His thumb traces a maddening pattern on Eddie’s knuckles. It shouldn’t make him feel half as insane as it does.

“I’m one thousand percent sure that it does not work like that, stupid,” Eddie shoots back.

Richie laughs. Stupid, smug bastard. Eddie wants to kiss him senseless. Eddie wants to kiss him so hard that Richie forgets his name. It drives him insane.  _ Richie  _ drives him insane. “I think it works however I say it works. C’mon, sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

Eddie shifts in his seat. He’s not sure how honest he can be.

“Eddie,” Richie whines. It comes out of him in a huff of air, drawn out. It makes Eddie’s insides feel like they’ve liquified. “Seriously. What are you thinking about?”

“What I want to do when we get back to your apartment,” Eddie blurts out, unexpected but more honest than he’s ever been in his life. He resists the urge to smack his hand over his mouth. He doesn’t want to take it back. He’s surprised by it, sure, but he means it. Jesus fucking Christ. He means it.

Richie turns to gape at him. Just for a moment, before he puts his gaze back on the road. “Oh,” he says. He sounds surprised.

“You sound surprised,” Eddie tells him. He wonders if he should feel self-conscious.

Richie lets out an incredulous laugh. Like he can’t believe Eddie.  _ Eddie!  _ Like, somehow in this situation, Eddie is the unbelievable one, and not Richie. Sitting in the driver’s seat of his car, kissing Eddie like  _ that _ in the airport, then pulling away like he hadn’t just made Eddie’s toes curl standing in the middle of fucking LAX. “I am, a little bit!”

“How is this a shock to you?” Eddie asks. He’s working himself up. “Hello? Where have you been the last three months? I know my dirty talk isn’t, like, the best, but have I ever given you anything less than the impression that I want to put my hands over your entire body all the time?”

“Buh,” Richie says, involuntarily. His eyes are wide when he glances at Eddie.

If Eddie’s being honest, it makes him a little smug.

“You can’t just say shit like that when I’m driving,” Richie mutters. “Gonna make a guy break traffic laws.”

Eddie is on fire. “Well? How much longer is the fucking drive, anyway?”

Richie presses his foot down on the gas.

They keep their hands twined together, once they make it to Richie’s apartment. Eddie holds Richie’s hand even as Richie unlocks his front door and ushers them inside. He likes it. The feeling of Richie’s hand against his. Wants to soak up as much of it as possible, while he can, so that he can remember what it’s like when he’s back home.

“Here we are,” Richie says. It’s a little cute how awkward he is.

It’s not like Richie towers over Eddie, but it does take a little bit of Eddie pressing up on his toes for him to be able to kiss Richie’s nose. And it’s worth it, for the adorable way that Richie’s face scrunches up before he ducks his head to try and hide his grin. “I’ve been here before, dumbass, you don’t have to be so awkward now.”

Richie clears his throat. The tips of his cheeks and ears are pink. Eddie wants to put his lips there. “It’s a different context now,” Richie says defensively.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Eddie tells him. He puts both his hands on Richie’s cheeks, just to hold him. Richie’s mouth parts, just a little bit. Eddie wants to cover Richie’s bottom lip with his, but he holds back. For now, at least.

But Richie surprises him, in a way he does so often Eddie should just stop being surprised, and he says, “Nope,” then puts his hands on Eddie’s hips and tugs him backwards until Richie’s knees hit the couch and they both go tumbling down.

It’s self-preservation and instinct, out of everything, that saves Eddie from kneeing Richie on his way down. Instead, he somehow manages to maneuver himself as they both crash into the couch, so that by the time they settle, Eddie’s straddling Richie’s lap and kneeling there.

“Nope?” he repeats. It should embarrass him, how rough his voice is. He doesn’t care. Richie handling him like that was hot as hell. Sitting on Richie like this, it’s hot as hell. He’s taller than Richie like this. It’s a little intoxicating.

“It has to be,” Richie says, then his brow furrows. “I don’t think that made sense. Hang on. You said it doesn’t have to be a different context. I’m saying. Uh. I want it to. It is. I want it to be, so.”

“So,” Eddie repeats, and he brushes his thumb along the skin right underneath Richie’s glasses. He watches Richie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Then, after deciding that seventy-odd minutes is too many to go in between kisses when they’re together, Eddie pushes Richie’s glasses up into his hair with one hand and cradles Richie’s chin with the other so he can pull him into a bruising kiss.

They’d talked a big game, for the way that their kiss ends up being gentle. At least to start. Eddie presses their lips together easily. Richie’s mouth parts at the contact—not enough to deepen the kiss, but enough for his small huff of air to escape. Eddie sucks lightly on Richie’s lip, before letting it go. He does it again, when it draws a sharp shiver out of Richie. Richie retaliates by scraping his teeth gently over Eddie’s bottom lip. The kiss breaks when Eddie lets out a surprised gasp and Richie starts to smile. It’s an easy pace. Teasing. Like they have all the time in the world. So Eddie presses the tip of his tongue there and lets Richie decide where to take it next.

Richie doesn’t hesitate. He opens his mouth fully and sucks Eddie’s tongue into his mouth. And it’s hot, hotter than it has any reason to be. His tongue slides against Eddie’s with practiced vigor. Eddie reaches up and twines his fingers into the waves at the back of Richie’s neck, pleased at the response he gets when his fingernails drag against Richie’s scalp. Richie puts his own hand on the small of Eddie’s back, contemplating, before he seems to decide it’s worth it and slides his palm into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans.

“Jesus,” Eddie breathes out.

“Richie’s fine,” Richie says smugly. Eddie shuts him up with another kiss.

He seems to like it when Eddie runs his tongue along the backs of his teeth, so Eddie pulls that move out every time he thinks Richie starts to get the upper hand. He likes the way it almost feels like a contest. Who can draw the best noises out of who. Who can get the other one to cry out their name first. It’s a gorgeous game of take and give that Eddie’s never had before, and he feels insatiable.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, a ghost of a statement against Richie’s lips. Richie practically swallows it with how closely they’re still pressed together.

  
Richie pulls away. Not much, but enough for it to be noticeable. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated. Eddie wonders how well he can see without his glasses, which are still pushed up into his hair. “Buh,” he says smartly. The tips of his cheeks are pink again.

Eddie realizes, this time, that there’s nothing stopping him from kissing Richie’s cheeks. So he does. Lingering kisses, starting at the top of Richie’s cheekbone, near his hairline. He lets his lips linger there for a minute. Not a firm kiss. Just a barely-there pressure. He hardly lifts his head as he shifts to the next spot, a little bit further down Richie’s cheekbone. He presses another soft kiss there. Moves again, then presses a kiss to the skin he finds there. It’s warm under his mouth. Warmer than the rest of Richie’s body, from what Eddie can tell. He likes that he can feel the way Richie’s cheeks flush.

“What are you doing,” Richie breathes. His hand is still on Eddie’s ass, in his back pocket. Eddie can feel it with Richie flexes his palm involuntarily.

“Kissing you,” Eddie answers. He drops down and presses a kiss to the corner of Richie’s mouth.

“You’re missing my mouth,” Richie tells him.

Eddie kisses his jawline. The pulse point on his neck. His Adam’s apple. He moves back up and tugs Richie’s earlobe between his teeth. Richie shudders underneath him, and it feels fucking perfect. He kisses the arch in Richie’s eyebrow, then kisses the center of his forehead, smoothing away the lines. “I’m getting the other important parts,” Eddie says seriously.

“You think this is the important parts?” Richie asks. “Baby, do we have to have a basic anatomy lesson?”

Eddie kisses him on the mouth, just to shut him up. Only for long enough that he can start again, on the other side of Richie’s face. Dedicating as much time to covering all of Richie’s face in soft kisses. “You’re the important part, dumbass.”

“Oh,” Richie gasps, and Eddie trails his lips down the side of his face. If he were a writer, he’d find a way to relate this to charting a map, maybe. Locating all the valleys and curves of Richie’s face and committing them to memory. Documenting the more sensitive spots that get Richie squirming underneath him. He’s painting a vivid picture for himself, for the future, one that he’ll remember for a long time.

“You’re perfect,” he says again, into the hollow of Richie’s neck. He finds a spot he likes and tugs the skin between his teeth. It draws a sharp, gorgeous gasp from Richie’s mouth. Eddie soothes the bite with his tongue.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Richie breathes.

Eddie smiles. “Nope. Gotta stay here with me, Tozier. Stay here with me.”

He can feel it when Richie swallows. “Oh, alright,” Richie concedes, then he pushes Eddie’s chin up and pulls him back in for a real kiss.

There’s no preamble this time. Nothing gentle about a kiss that starts off with Richie sucking Eddie’s tongue into his mouth. Eddie wonders if Richie feels like he’s making up for lost time. He wonders if Richie’s just trying to drive Eddie wild. Either way, every drag of his tongue against Eddie’s is enough to send sharp waves of heat down Eddie’s spine.

Eddie feels consumed by it. Happier than he can ever remember feeling, just from kissing Richie like this. Over and over again. Just from Richie sucking on his tongue. Just from dragging his teeth along Richie’s lip. Just from the way that Richie palms his ass like it’s the best thing he’s ever gotten to hold in his hands. It’s one of the hottest, if not  _ the  _ hottest, makeout sessions of Eddie’s life.

He tugs on Richie’s hair again, breaking the kiss and pulling his head back enough that Eddie can latch on to the exposed line of Richie’s throat. He sucks a hickey on the side he hasn’t already marked up. Richie writhes desperately underneath him.

“For someone who says he’s determined to keep me alive, you sure are trying hard to kill me,” Richie gasps out. His other hand hits the couch seat with a satisfying smack. It makes Eddie feel smug, knowing he can draw this reaction out of Richie. 

Eddie lets his lips linger on the spot as he pulls away from the new mark on Richie’s neck. “I’m finding out what you like.”

“So you can use it against me later?” Richie jokes.

“Maybe,” Eddie says with a shrug. It makes Richie go a little bit slack-jawed. Eddie grins.

Richie’s voice is thick when he says, “Skank.”

Eddie’s laugh echoes through Richie’s apartment. “I don’t think you can use that word when we haven’t even had sex yet!”

Richie groans. He drops his head backwards til it’s resting against the back of the couch. “Don’t say sex when you’re sitting in my lap and tongue-fucking my mouth like you’ve got something to prove,” he says with a sigh. “My heart may give out. It’s gonna fall out my dick.”

“Now who’s the skank?” Eddie asks.

“I think it’s still you,” Richie starts, but it’s cut off with an  _ mmph  _ as Eddie pulls him back up for another bruising kiss. There’s no room for gentleness when Richie immediately licks into his throat, seemingly ready to retaliate for the pace that Eddie had set previously. He seems determined to drive Eddie just as wild, sucking on his tongue in a way that Eddie thinks would leave a bruise if such a thing were possible. Richie licks his teeth and swallows Eddie’s stuttered moan. He reaches up and palms Eddie’s ass with both of his hands.

It’s good. It’s hot. The insane part of Eddie’s brain wants to keep this going. Thinks he could get off just like this, if that’s what it came to. But there’s a much louder part of him that wants to spread Richie out against his mattress. That wants to take Richie apart with slow, teasing fingers. That wants to press those same gentle, open-mouthed kisses to every inch of Richie’s body.

Eddie sticks his hand up Richie’s hoodie.

“Presumptuous,” Richie murmurs against his mouth. “Who's to say that I put out on the first date?”

“Can we even call this the first date, if we’ve been dating for three months?” Eddie asks. His body is on fire as he traces his hand up Richie’s chest.

“Can we even call it a date? You didn’t even buy me dinner,” Richie shoots back. Eddie tweaks his nipple, a little sharply, just to get a rise out of him. When Richie yelps, he swallows it with his tongue. “Okay, damn, I like it.”

“I bet you do,” Eddie whispers back. He rubs soothing circles over Richie’s nipple, over the spot he twisted. Richie twitches underneath him. He’s more sensitive than Eddie is, which is something that sends a hot rush through Eddie’s blood. Eddie wants to put his mouth there, next. Then, he realizes with a jolt, that that’s something he  _ can  _ do. He pulls his hand out of Richie’s hoodie and grabs a fistful of the material at the bottom. “Can I take this off?”

“God,” Richie gasps out. His eyelashes flutter beautifully. God, Eddie’s so fucking into him it doesn’t feel fair. “Shit. You don’t even have to ask, Eds.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, and he tugs the sweatshirt up.

Richie shivers against him. “Wait,” he grits out. Eddie freezes.

“Sorry,” Eddie says quickly. He wonders if he should pull away entirely. But Richie’s still got both of his hands on Eddie’s ass, and he must have inherited more of his mother’s psychic abilities than he’s let on, because he seems to read Eddie’s mind. 

“We don’t, uh,” Richie breathes out. He squeezes Eddie’s ass, drawing a quick shiver out of the both of them. His mouth is shiny and swollen from their kisses. “We don’t have. We don’t have a lot of time, we have. Dinner reservations.”

It takes him a second to raise his head, and it takes another second for Richie to catch his gaze. Eddie’s voice is uncharacteristically soft as he said, “You made us dinner reservations?”

“Am I not allowed to feed you now?” Richie asks. His face is flushed. Eddie’s heart is gonna pound out of his chest just looking at him.

“I just didn’t expect you to make dinner reservations,” Eddie tells him. 

Richie lets out a shy laugh. “Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting to treat my boyfriend right.”

Jesus. Eddie can’t help but grin. “Say that again?”

“Say what, you lunatic?” Richie says. He’s laughing again. Eddie wants to swallow the sound.

“You  _ know  _ what.”

“Boyfriend?” Richie asks. Eddie kisses him in answer. “Oh my god, you’re one of those people. I should have fucking known you’d like it when I call you boyfriend. You’re a gremlin, you know? My boyfriend is a fucking gremlin.”

Eddie grins. “And you wanna make sure he’s treated right.”

Richie shifts his hips up so he can dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’m gonna cancel those reservations—” he starts. Eddie smacks his phone out of his hand.

“Don’t.”

“If I cancel them, then we can fuck right now,” Richie tells him. He raises an eyebrow, like that helps further his point. Eddie wants to kiss it again.

He does. It makes Richie’s face scrunch up the way it did before. “If you don’t cancel them, we can fuck now and then we can  _ also _ fuck later. And I’m pretty sure I know how to make that worthwhile.”

“Only pretty sure?” Richie asks. He sounds pretty smug for a guy whose cheeks are pink and whose half-chub is pressing against Eddie’s thigh right now. Eddie feels so full of affection for him that he feels like it’s going to burst out of him. He didn’t know it was possible to feel this much in regards to just one person.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs. They don’t have a lot of time, if they’ve got to get ready for dinner, but they have some. At least a little bit, right now, where they can stay pressed together a little longer. Memorize it. He cradles Richie’s face in his hand. Wonders how long he’ll get to hold Richie like this. “Kiss me again, stupid.”

So Richie does. Hot and open-mouthed, a kiss that starts out filthy. Eddie doesn’t think it can get dirtier, but Richie sucks on his tongue in a way that makes Eddie’s toes curl. Eddie gasps when Richie drags his teeth over the tip of his tongue.

“I said kiss me, not bite me, vampire,” Eddie says. He leans back and Richie latches onto a spot right above his collarbone. He bites down again, like he’s trying to prove Eddie’s point. “Ah, ah—! Richie—”

Richie smooths his tongue over the bite. And he must have the same thought that Eddie had earlier, because he lets go of Eddie’s ass so that he can grab a hold of Eddie’s shirt and pull it over his head.

“God,” Richie breathes. He smooths a hand down Eddie’s chest. “I think we should break up.”

Eddie lets out a startled laugh. “What?!”

“You’re too hot,” Richie says, mock-miserably. “I’m gonna schlub off my shirt and you’re gonna realize that you have a body too rockin’ to rock it with me and so I’m gonna call it off before my heart gets broken.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He tugs Richie’s sweatshirt off in one swift motion, and groans when he realizes Richie’s got a shirt underneath it, too. “Why do you hate me?” he snaps.

“Eddie,” Richie laughs.

“Shut the fuck up!” Eddie says, working himself up. “I already told you how fucking sexy I think you are. Jesus, Richie, your fucking. Your shoulders, your chest, your stomach, you drive me fucking  _ wild.  _ So why the fuck are you  _ punishing me,  _ why are you wearing so many goddamn layers?!”

Richie’s laughing, head thrown back against the couch, full-bellied laughs that Eddie wants to swallow whole. Richie drives him fucking crazy, in the best possible way.

“It’s November, baby,” Richie tells him.

“In Los Angeles!” Eddie yelps, and he kisses Richie again, just to shut him up. Richie’s laughter tastes sweet. Perfect. Eddie slides off the couch without breaking their kiss, and he grabs onto Richie’s arms to pull him up, too. Richie comes willingly. Eddie has the feeling that Richie’d follow him anywhere, if he asked. “C’mon, Rich. Take me to bed.”

Richie leads him to the bedroom, Eddie stumbling backwards but holding tight to Richie to keep their mouths pressed together. He’s hard now, straining against his pants, and he’s not quite sure when he got there. He stumbles against Richie’s door and they laugh into each other’s mouths again. Eddie’s never had sex like this. Where the laughter is just as prominent as the horniness. He never realized that having both made it so much better.

They tumble into bed, once they reach it. Richie’s back hits the mattress with a heavy sound and his laughter rings through the room. He’s got a good enough grip on Eddie still that Eddie goes, too, falling on top of him. And,  _ fuck,  _ Richie looks gorgeous like this. Laid out on his bed, shirtless. Glasses skewed, crooked where they’re still pushed into his hair. His mouth is red and swollen but his eyes are bright. Beautiful. Eddie wonders if Richie would let him take pictures. So he can remember this, when he goes back home. So he can remember it years from now. 

Eddie sits up so he can settle himself better, slotting his knees over either side of Richie’s hips. Richie puts his hands on Eddie’s waist, holding him there. “You’re perfect,” Richie tells him.

“You’re biased,” Eddie responds.

“Maybe, but I’m cute, so you like it,” Richie says with a grin. Eddie puts a hand on Richie’s chest and flicks his pinky over a nipple. Richie shivers underneath him. “Holy fuck, you play so dirty.”

Eddie shakes his head. He feels fond in a way that he probably shouldn’t feel right now, considering how hard he is and how it’s only getting worse feeling Richie’s erection, too, against the curve of his ass. “You telling me you don’t want it dirty?”

“Shit,” Richie gasps. Eddie reaches up and takes Richie’s glasses off, stretching to put them on the bedside table. While Richie’s still trying to formulate a response, Eddie bends down and presses his mouth to the hickey he’d left there earlier. Richie jumps when Eddie smooths his tongue over it. Still sensitive. “I want.”

“What do you want?” Eddie asks. He moves his mouth down to Richie’s pec. Richie’s hand flexes against his hip.

“You, Eds,” Richie says. His voice sounds distant. Eddie wants to tease him for his vague answer, but he understands it. Thinks he gets why it’s so hard to articulate what they want, right now. He wants a lot of things. He wants Richie’s dick in his mouth. He wants Richie’s hand in his. He wants to bury himself in Richie and split him in two. Eddie moves again and licks a line from Richie’s nipple down to his navel, until Richie is trembling and yelps out, “God, your mouth.”

Eddie’s voice is rough as he responds, “Richie, I. I wanna put my mouth on you everywhere.”

Richie sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes close as his head falls back against the sheets. “God, please,” he gasps out.

Eddie kisses Richie’s stomach, multiple spots that he finds. Gentle in some places. A little bit rougher in others. Richie will likely still be covered in marks at Thanksgiving. The thought makes heat pool in Eddie’s stomach. He puts his hands on Richie’s hips, teases his fingers below the waistline, and pushes them down just enough that he can press two kisses to each of Richie’s hip bones.

“Can you, um,” Richie starts uncertainly. His fingers tap against the mattress as he decides what he wants to say. “My thighs. Um. I like.”

Eddie feels like he’s been doused in gasoline and now he’s standing in a wheat field with a match in his hand. Richie’s trailed off, likely too nervous to finish asking, but it doesn’t matter. Eddie knows what he wants. His throat is dry as he says, “You want me to put hickeys on your thighs?”

It makes Richie shiver. His eyes look glazed over almost, pupils wide. It takes him a moment to find Eddie’s face. His cheeks are pink once again. “Yeah, I. Please?”

“God,” Eddie breathes out. Richie lifts his hips so that Eddie can pull his pants down, discarding them on the floor. He leaves the boxers on, if for nothing but to tease Richie a little bit longer. Richie slides up on the bed so that they both fit as Eddie settles between his legs.

Richie’s hard. Eddie had known this already. Not long ago, he’d felt Richie’s dick against his asscheek. It still startles him, seeing it like this. Tenting his boxers. He knows Richie’s hung, he’s seen the fucking pictures Richie’s sent him, but it’s. Better. Different, like this. Eddie thinks his mouth is watering, which is almost as embarrassing as it is arousing. He clears his throat and puts his hand on Richie’s thigh, using his fingertips to bunch up the fabric.

“Fuck, Eds,” Richie gasps out, as Eddie noses along the soft skin of his inner thigh. Trying to find the perfect place to start. He’s intoxicated. This proximity to Richie makes his head feel light.

Eddie finds a good spot, a sensitive spot that has Richie twitching just when Eddie brushes over it, and he presses his mouth there tentatively at first. Richie makes a small, punched out noise. The noise falls easier from his mouth, louder, when Eddie kisses more firmly and sucks the skin there between his teeth.

He wishes he could look up and see what Richie looks like right now. He’s pretty sure he’d be greeted by the sight of Richie’s head thrown back in the sheets, mouth open and panting. His hands grasping at his comforter. Chest heaving, almost, at the rate in which he tries to keep himself breathing. Eddie lets go of his bite and soothes his tongue over the mark, sucking on it again. He can feel Richie’s muscle twitch under his hand. He bites again, a little bit firmer. Richie cries out.

“God, yeah,” he breathes. Eddie sucks on it for another moment, just to make sure the mark will be noticeable enough, before he noses a little bit higher up Richie’s leg to find another spot to bruise up. Richie gets a hand in Eddie’s hair and whines.

“Good?” Eddie murmurs, barely lifting his mouth.

Richie lets out an incredulous laugh. Eddie raises his head, just enough to see Richie wave a dismissive hand in the air. “Good, he asks. Like he’s not sucking my soul out of my body before he even gets his mouth on my dick.”

“Do you want my mouth on your dick?” Eddie asks.

“Do I—” Richie startles. He props himself up on his elbows and looks at Eddie’s face. “Am I  _ human?  _ Hello, fucking,  _ duh  _ I want your mouth on my dick? Do you think I’ve been. Abducted. By body snatchers? In what universe would I ever say no to that question.”

Eddie laughs a little breathlessly. “I’m sure there’s a version of you out there.”

Richie drops backwards again. He covers his face with his hands. Muffled, annoyed, he says, “Well, that version of me is a fucking dumbass. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“Mmhm,” Eddie hums. He drags his teeth up Richie’s thigh slowly, and Richie trails off with a stuttered cry. “To be fair. You also don’t know what you’re missing. Yet, at least. Haven’t put my mouth on your dick yet.”

“No, just everywhere else, because you live to torture me,” Richie says petulantly.

Eddie laughs. Richie twitches when the air from it hits his thigh. In an easy movement, Eddie hooks his fingers into the waistband of Richie’s boxers. “I have been enjoying this,” he admits. Richie huffs in response. “But. We’re operating in a time frame, yeah? Guess I better get a move on.”

Richie’s breath stutters again when Eddie eases his boxers down. Eddie feels lightheaded. He feels. Fuck, he can’t even describe it. And he’s seen Richie’s dick before, he’s saved the photos Richie’s sent him in a secret file on his phone and he’s jacked off thinking about it enough times that seeing it face to face should not make his mouth water the way that it does.

Eddie drags his nails through the dark curls at Richie’s navel. Richie lets out a staggered, drawn out moan. He gets louder, the closer that Eddie gets to touching his dick, and that alone makes Eddie think the room is fucking spinning. He can already tell he’s not gonna be able to take all of Richie, so in the same swift motion, he wraps his hand around the base of Richie’s dick and swallows his dick down as far as he can go.

“Jesus, fuck!” Richie cries out, and he smacks a hand over his mouth. Richie whines again when Eddie flattens his tongue along the underside of his dick. And Eddie needs a second, to. To fucking adjust, he thinks. To let his lips wrap around Richie’s cock, to feel the heavy weight of it in his mouth. He wonders if Richie can see the outline of himself in Eddie’s mouth. Pressed to the cheek. The thought draws a sharp shiver out of Eddie which, in turn, makes Richie moan again.

Eddie pulls off slowly, with an obscenely filthy, wet smack. Straight out of a fucking porno. He blinks and looks up at Richie. “You liked that?”

“Did I fucking,” Richie pants. Eddie rubs soothing circles into the soft skin of his inner thighs. “Yes? Yes, I liked that.”

Eddie hums. He darts his tongue out and licks the head of Richie’s cock, grinning when it makes Richie’s hips twitch upwards. It startles him, a little, how turned on he is just from getting Richie off like this. “Guess I’ll have to do it again.”

He doesn’t give Richie much warning other than that before he swallows Richie down and pumps his hand to meet his mouth in the middle. Richie lets out a string of incomprehensible sounds. His hand smacks against the mattress, searching. Eddie reaches up with his free hand and twines their fingers together.

“You’re perfect,” Richie gasps out. His hips stutter, like he’s considering the pros and cons of fucking Eddie’s face. Eddie unwraps his hand from Richie’s dick and taps twice on his hip bone, hoping that it somehow conveys that it’s okay. Richie twitches. “Shit, Eds. Are you sure?”

Rather than tap out his affirmation again, Eddie hums against Richie’s dick, letting the sound reverberate as he hollows out his cheeks in the same motion.

“Fuck—!” Richie groans. Eddie trails his hand down Richie’s thigh until he can get it under Richie’s knee, easing it up so that Richie can plant his foot into the mattress. It will help him, make the angle better for both of them. He squeezes Richie’s ankle. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Eddie laughs. He pulls back, until his lips are wrapped around the head of Richie’s dick, and he flicks his tongue against the tip once, twice, three times, until Richie finally,  _ finally,  _ fucks his hips up and fits himself better into Eddie’s mouth.

He’s not sure how long they go like that. Eddie holding his hand as Richie fucks his mouth. The pace is stuttered, inconsistent. Eddie matches it as best as he can. He keeps his other hand on Richie’s leg, feeling up his thick thighs and coarse hair and pinching in the spots where he thinks he left marks earlier. Richie’s a mess up above, panting and sweating and babbling nonsense more often than he says words. Eddie had expected him to be loud. Hoped for it, even. Hearing it in person, hearing it like this. Fuck, it’s better than he expected.

Eddie lets go of Richie’s leg so he can reach down, palming himself over his own pants and groaning.

“Don’t,” Richie says suddenly. His hips still. Eddie pulls off of him with another sound that makes his head feel light, and he finds Richie’s gaze. Richie’s face is pink. Beautiful. Eddie can hardly  _ breathe.  _

“Don’t what?” Eddie asks, and Jesus  _ fuck,  _ is that what his voice sounds like? Rough and low and throaty? He wonders how he looks. Wonders if it turns Richie on as much as seeing Richie like this turns Eddie on.

His gaze drops to Richie’s throat as Richie swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. Christ, the marks in his neck are already so dark. The people at the restaurant are going to think Richie’s dating a vampire.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Richie says finally. Eddie’s eyes snap back up to Richie’s face, and his mouth parts in surprise. Richie’s trembling, but his voice is steady as he finishes, “I gotta return the favor after, right?”

“You wanna blow me?” Eddie asks. Flames are licking at his chest and threatening to consume his whole body. He didn’t know it was possible to feel this horny. It makes him feel reckless, almost. Brave.

Richie lets out a small, incredulous laugh. Like he can’t believe Eddie’s question. “Did you think I was just gonna blow my load then blue-ball you?”

“We don’t have a lot of time!” Eddie says, and it rises in his chest. He  _ wants _ time. He wants to do this all fucking night.

“Jesus tits,” Richie says around another laugh. He drops his head back onto the mattress. If Eddie weren’t preoccupied down by his dick, he’d dive up and kiss that stupid smile right off Richie’s face. “Fucking time crunch. Better hop to it, Skippy.”

Eddie makes a face. “I’m not putting my mouth back on your dick if you’re gonna call me Skippy.”

“Oh, there’s a peanut butter joke somewhere here that—oh,  _ fuck,  _ Eddie!” Richie yelps out, and Eddie finds out that putting his mouth on Richie’s dick unexpectedly is a pretty solid way of getting him to shut the fuck up. It takes Eddie’s hand on his hip for Richie to find a rhythm fucking his hips again, but then it’s as good as it gets. Eddie loves the roughness, the unpredictability. He catalogues every sound that Richie makes, filing it away with what he does to pull it out of Richie. Gripping his hips and helping him move makes Richie suck in a sharp breath. Matching Richie’s thrust with a well-timed flick of his tongue makes Richie moan out his name. So on it goes.

Richie’s fingers flex against Eddie’s. It’s a signal, even before Richie groans, “Eds, I’m gonna—” so Eddie squeezes their twined hands back and wraps his free hand around the base of Richie’s dick, evening out Richie’s uneven thrusts. Richie is trembling underneath him. It doesn’t take much to coax him to the edge; Eddie feels almost dangerously close himself as he hums around Richie’s cock and squeezes the base.

“Eddie,  _ Eddie,  _ fuck,” Richie cries out, and Eddie strokes him through as Richie comes down his throat.

It’s a sight Eddie wishes he could have at the forefront of his mind forever. Richie’s chest heaves up and down as he rides the wave of his orgasm. His mouth is pink and open, and from it falls a litany of swear words intermixed with Eddie’s name. He looks debauched, body shiny with sweat and covered in marks from Eddie’s mouth. Eddie keeps his lips wrapped around Richie’s dick until Richie is pushing at his shoulder with his free hand, overstimulated and crying out and finally coming back down to his own body. Eddie pulls off with a satisfying sound.

“Guh,” Richie breathes, and Eddie laughs. He crawls up Richie’s body slowly, easing himself up, until their faces are level with one another. It takes a moment for Richie’s eyes to find his face, but he gives Eddie an easy smile once he gets there.

“Good?” Eddie asks.

Richie’s head shifts up slightly, and Eddie interprets that as a nod. He beams down at Richie.

“You have,” Richie says. He blinks groggily. Eddie’s so endeared he thinks he might die. He tracks the movement of Richie’s tongue as Richie licks his lips. “There’s. Jizz on your chin, Eds.”

Eddie makes a noise of disgust and wipes at his chin with the back of his hand. “Do you have to call it jizz?”

“Would you rather I call it baby batter?” Richie asks seriously. Eddie groans and drops to the side, rolling off of Richie and covering his face with his hands. He can feel it when Richie starts to laugh next to him. “Face cream? High fructose porn syrup?”

And it startles Eddie so hard that the sharp laugh he lets out nearly makes him tumble out of bed. Richie starts to laugh even harder. He rolls to his side and presses his nose into Eddie’s neck, sliding an arm over his torso to keep him from actually falling. He trails his fingers down Eddie’s side. He’s still sensitive, and still horny as hell, even despite Richie’s fucking  _ obscene  _ jokes, and he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t snap, “I fucking hate you, we’re breaking up,” even though there’s not a single part of him that thinks it’s true at all.

Richie tugs Eddie’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Fuck,” Eddie pants, and just like that the mood is back. He feels frantic as he gets his hands on Richie’s shoulders, his back, digging his fingers into the muscle there. Richie covers Eddie’s body with his own, and he’s.  _ Fuck,  _ he’s so big, he’s warm and perfect, and Eddie could honestly die right here and now before Richie even gets his mouth on Eddie’s dick. “Fuck, fuck. Rich, I’m not. I won’t last long.”

“It’s okay,” Richie reassures him. He kisses his way down Eddie’s chest. Torturous. It’s probably not even a quarter of what Eddie put Richie through, but it still makes him twitch so hard he’s afraid he’s going to knock both of them off the bed. “This isn’t the only time I plan on doing this.”

Eddie laughs incredulously. Richie undoes the fly of his jeans and nudges Eddie’s hips up so he can pull down pants and boxers at the same time. He preens when Richie sucks in a sharp breath. Still, his voice is strangled as he says, “It better fucking  _ not  _ be the only time—fuck,  _ fuck,  _ Richie!”

If there is some superior creator of the universe, whoever they are is up there laughing now at their own joke, because it’s not fucking fair that a guy whose name is Dick can suck one like it’s his literal only purpose in life. But Eddie’s gasping for air as Richie swallows him down with ease, until his lips are stretched over Eddie’s dick as far as they can go. His tongue presses hot to the underside, tracing the vein slowly.

Richie’s hands are fucking huge, too. He splays one against Eddie’s hip, pinning him down to the bed. It’s a sharp contrast to the way that Eddie had held Richie’s hips and encouraged Richie to fuck into his mouth. And  _ fuck,  _ it sends a thrill right down Eddie’s spine until he can feel it in his toes.

“Rich, Richie,” he whines, breathless and needy. He twines a head in Richie’s hair; the corners of his vision go white when Richie hums appreciatively around his dick. “Fuck  _ me,  _ fuck!”

There’s a hint of laughter as Richie, the fucking  _ tease,  _ pulls off Eddie’s dick with an obscenely wet sound. “Is that not what I’m doing?”

“I’m gonna fucking kick you,” Eddie threatens. “You fucking tease, put your mouth back on me, Richie, I swear to  _ god,  _ asshole—”

“God, the fucking mouth on this guy,” Richie whistles. Lazily, he pumps Eddie’s cock in his hand. Eddie tries without avail to fuck his hips into it. Richie laughs again. Infuriating asshole. He’s still laughing when he does, finally, swallow Eddie down again.

Eddie lets out a strangled moan. Richie’s tongue is clever, almost fucking wicked, the way he licks up Eddie’s cock and flicks the tip against the vein. He seems to know exactly what he needs to do to get Eddie writhing desperately.

He’s not sure if it’s a competitive side he didn’t realize he had that just wants to be louder than Richie was, or if it’s just something Richie brings out in him, but Eddie gasps out strangled swear words and moans in a long string with every bob of Richie’s head.

It’s simultaneously too much and not enough. Richie’s mouth on him is overwhelming, hot and clever and Eddie’s so close that his toes are curling. But he misses the warmth of Richie’s body pressed against his, the way that Richie’s chest felt under his hands. He wants to be surrounded. Engulfed.

“Richie, I,” Eddie tries to say, but Richie squeezes the base of Eddie’s dick as he hollows out his cheeks and Eddie forgets every word he’s ever learned. He tightens his grip in Richie’s hair and tugs, and Richie lets his head be pulled back as he lets out a sharp gasp of his own. Eddie smacks a hand over his mouth to keep from crying out. “Richie, fuck!”

“It’s okay,” Richie says. His voice is so rough, Eddie thinks he’ll still sound like that when they go to dinner. “C’mon, babe, we’re running out of time.”

“Hot,” Eddie huffs, and Richie’s laughing when he wraps his lips back around Eddie’s cock. “Talk about the time crunch you’re in because you and your boyfriend are so fucking unhinged around each other that they couldn’t even save sex for after dinner. That’ll push a guy over the edge.”

Richie laughs again and shakes his head. He hums, because he’s an asshole, and taps his fingers against Eddie’s hips. Eddie doesn’t know how he knows, but it’s Richie’s way of saying,  _ that won’t, but this might. _

And that’s really all the warning that Eddie gets before Richie sucks him down again, hollowing his cheeks enough that Eddie can see the outline of his own dick in Richie’s mouth. With that same pressure, Richie starts to pull his head off, slowly. Fucking.  _ Tantalizing.  _ Right before he reaches the tip, he takes the hand he had wrapped around the base of Eddie’s dick and presses his thumb, just barely, to the ring of muscle at Eddie’s rim.

Eddie cries out, and he keeps his hand tight in Richie’s hair as he comes down Richie’s throat.

Richie coaxes him through it, stroking up Eddie’s dick while Eddie rides out his orgasm. He keeps his mouth wrapped around him until Eddie’s done, then keeps it there longer, as Eddie starts to soften in his mouth. Eventually it becomes too much, and Eddie’s almost too sensitive, so he pushes at Richie’s shoulders.

He manages to prop himself up in time to watch as Richie pulls himself off. Richie’s lips are red and swollen. There’s a small bit of come on his bottom lip, something he didn’t catch, or something that got caught as he pulled off. Eddie’s chest feels tight as he watches Richie’s tongue flick out and catch it.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, and he falls back against the mattress with a heavy thud.

Richie is laughing as he climbs back into bed, draping himself over Eddie. It should be too much. It should feel sweaty and sticky and Eddie shouldn’t like it as much as he does. But Eddie does like it, and he twines his arms around Richie’s middle to keep him there. Richie’s smile is bright. “Good?”

“Let me think,” Eddie says, mock serious. “He gives me the best sex of my life. Blows me so well I literally see stars. Then he asks me if it was good. Like I wasn’t literally crying in his sheets less than two minutes ago.”

“Best sex of your life, you say?” Richie drawls, with a waggle of his eyebrows. He works his jaw a little bit, and watching it sends another jolt down Eddie’s spine. Richie shakes his head, evidently noticing. “You’re turned on by my jaw being sore?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s hot. You’re hot.”

“No, you,” Richie says smartly.

“Nice comeback,” Eddie teases.

Richie’s laughing again as he bends down, pressing his face close to Eddie’s. “Oh, I’ll give you come back,” he growls, and Eddie shrieks and pushes at Richie’s hips until he manages to roll them both over. He settles himself over Richie’s chest.

“You’re disgusting,” Eddie tells him seriously, but he doesn’t mean it.

“And yet you had sex with me anyway,” Richie says. He reaches up and pushes Eddie’s hair off his forehead. He presses his hand to Eddie’s check, afterwards. Tender. It’s something that makes Eddie’s chest feel like it’s gonna burst. “Hey, you.”

Eddie smiles softly. “Hi.”

Richie grins back. “Hey.”

“We gonna lay here all day grinning at each other like a couple of jackasses, or are you gonna let me get you cleaned up so you can take me out to dinner?” Eddie asks.

“Oh, we’re fully cancelling that dinner. I’m staying in bed with you for the rest of the night.” Eddie slaps his chest, and Richie’s loud and unfiltered laughter fills the room. “Okay, okay, fine. But we better get a move on if we’re gonna make our reservation.”

Eddie sits up, tugging Richie with him, and by the time they both settle Eddie is sitting in his lap. “Think we have a few extra minutes to spare?”

Richie raises an eyebrow at him. “Why? You telling me you can get it up for a second round?”

“God, not yet,” Eddie laughs. “I’m not that young. But. I don’t know. I just.”

“You just what?” Richie says softly. He reaches up again and pushes Eddie’s hair back. Eddie likes that. He likes Richie’s hand on his face. Likes that Richie wants to see his face and will continually make sure he’s able to. Eddie leans into the touch. “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.”

Eddie shrugs. It’s almost embarrassing. And then it dawns on him, it shouldn’t be. Richie’s his  _ boyfriend.  _ Eddie’s here with him, this week, to meet his family. They’re far past the stage where they should be embarrassed about things, aren’t they? The thought makes Eddie feel reckless. It makes him feel brave. “I wanna lay with you, for a minute,” Eddie admits. “Is that weird?”

Richie’s face goes soft. A little surprised, if the upturn of the corner of his mouth is anything to go by, but soft all the same. “Not weird. A little corny, maybe,” and Eddie elbows him and buries his face in Richie’s neck, “but lucky for you, I was. Uh. I was kind of hoping for the same thing.”

“Goof,” Eddie teases, but there’s nothing but fondness in his tone. Richie laughs and falls back into bed, taking Eddie with him.

* * *

They do, in fact, miss their reservation, but Eddie sweet-talks the host into giving them another spot, and Richie holds his hand across the table, and Eddie decides that being late was worth it, for this.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/SPACERICHlE) if you want to come say hello!


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